


You Call It Madness (But I Call It Love)

by paragraph (ebcdic)



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Anger, Angry Sex, Arguing, Bloody Kisses, Consensual Infidelity, Derogatory Language, Domestic Violence, M/M, Marking, Resentment, Riding, Slut Shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 11:52:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12747762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebcdic/pseuds/paragraph
Summary: Loving Pete Wentz is just as dangerous as cliff diving.





	You Call It Madness (But I Call It Love)

Loving Pete Wentz is just as dangerous as cliff diving, Patrick decides while flipping through some National Geographic Special on some tribe in some far off land that he's only watching because nothing else is on at four am besides infomercials and if he watches the George Forman ad one more time, he's going to call up and buy the fucking thing. He's sitting up at four am because Pete is out somewhere, has been out somewhere, for the past three days. Patrick has no idea where he is and Pete wasn't exactly forthcoming with information when he was packing a bag hastily, a snowsuit thrown in with shorts and ratty old t-shirts. Based on what was in the bag, Patrick had guessed that Pete was either going skiing at a resort, or was going crazy. As the days creep on by, Patrick is leaning more toward the latter. Who takes off at six am on a goddamn Sunday and then doesn't even answer his own mother's calls? 

Patrick shoves himself off the futon and begins picking up the house, just because it's something to do that's less depressing than imagining Pete eloping with Ashlee or some other page six girl out of spite. Although spite over what, Patrick had no idea. He was the one who was loyal and faithful; Pete was the one who ran off and fucked everyone within reach. As Patrick starts moving half-eaten plates of food to the kitchen, he wonders if it was the condom thing that had Pete acting like this. Patrick always insisted that they wear one even though Pete got tested regularly and always came up clean. To Pete, it was some gross violation of trust that Patrick wouldn't fuck him without one on; to Patrick it was just rational practicality. Until Pete learned to keep it in his pants, that was the way it was going to be. 

But no, they hadn't fought about that lately. At least not in the hours leading up to Pete's sudden departure. No, the last time they had really fought was Friday night, as Pete was getting ready to go out. Pete had been standing at the sink in the bathroom, applying eyeliner while Patrick had stood in the doorway with a frown on his face. 

"What?" Pete had asked without pausing.

"Why can't you ever stay home?" Patrick knew then as he knows now that he was whining, but couldn't stop himself. Pete was wearing silver spandex shorts and a faux fur coat. He was also planning on meeting Ryan Ross at whatever club was in this week. Patrick didn't want to be jealous, but he was. 

"You're only young once."

Pete liked to use clichés on Patrick when he was annoyed, probably because he knew they annoyed Patrick even more.

"Fuck you."

Patrick had stormed downstairs and out onto the deck of the ridiculous house in the hills Pete had insisted on buying. He waited and waited for Pete to come out and say something, but the only response he got was the front door slamming. 

Sighing heavily, Patrick begins loading up the dishwasher. He doesn't look up when he hears the soft click of a key in the lock followed by the thud of something hitting the parquet floor of the foyer. Completing this task seems far more important than going to see if it's Pete. 

"Trick."

The use of his pet name only feeds Patrick's anger and resentment, so he takes a deep breath and doesn't answer to it. Pete's sneakers squeak slightly on the tile floor as he shuffles his feet. 

"Patrick, please, I'm sorry."

Pete doesn’t really sound all that sorry; he just sounds like he doesn't want Patrick to be angry with him. Once again, he wants to get away with something he shouldn't. Patrick's rage rises to the surface and he throws the juice glass he was about to put in the dishwasher at Pete's head. At the last second, Pete ducks and it shatters against the wall.

"No, you're not, so just go do what ever the fuck you want."

"I…"

Pete's eyes are wide and he bites his lip after the first word. Normally, this look would melt Patrick into Pete's arms and they would have make-up sex for hours. This time, it only adds fuel to the fire. 

"Get the fuck out, Peter."

Blanching slightly, Pete takes a step back, into the living room. Patrick should feel bad that he's scaring Pete, but instead, he feels good, almost powerful. For once, he has the upper hand in this relationship. He follows after Pete and backs him against the wall. Pete swallows hard.

"I really am sorry. I just needed some space, that's all."

"It's always about you, isn't it?"

Tears are welling up in Pete's eyes. Patrick does his best to ignore them. Violence is itching at his insides. He wants to hurt Pete, to make him feel every second of his absence. The thought of hitting Pete in anger nauseates Patrick though, so he goes for words instead.

"You're a whore, Peter."

"No, I'm not."

Pete's defiant words cause Patrick to grab him by the biceps and pin them to the wall.

"You're right, you're worse than that. You're a selfish fucking cunt."

The tears spill over Pete's lashes. Patrick wants to kiss them away and make Pete cry harder at the same time. The conflicting emotions make his hands slip away from Pete's arms. He tries not to look at the red bands he's left behind on Pete's skin as he turns away.

Pete's fists pounding into his back startle him. He whips around only to get belted in the jaw. It's all pure instinct after that. He shoves Pete back up against the wall and attacks him. Pete gives back as good as he gets until they're panting on the floor, Patrick pinning Pete to the ground. Pete's hands go for Patrick's pajama pants while Patrick fumbles to tear off Pete's jeans. When he finally slides inside Pete, he kisses him hard and tastes blood.

Afterward, they curl up on the futon and examine each other's wounds. Pete seems proud of the ones that Patrick gave him, although the sight of them makes Patrick feel nauseated at first, he finally gives in and licks and caresses them. When Pete starts making this incredibly sexy keening sound, Patrick pulls Pete on top of him. As Pete rides him, Patrick thumbs a bruise he left behind on Pete's hip and tries not to wince when the scratches Pete gave him scrape against the material of the futon.

Later, when they're both half asleep, Patrick kisses Pete's temple. "Do you love me?"

"Yes," Pete says simply. 

Patrick almost believes him.


End file.
